


Hallucinations

by TetrodotoxinB



Series: Whumptober 2019 [22]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Accidental food poisoning, Blood, Brief mentions of minor medical care, Needles, Nightmares, Prompt: Hallucinations, Steve has a really bad trip, There are psychotropic fish in Hawaii, Visual/auditory hallucinations, Whumptober 2019, day 22, i read a lot about fish for this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 09:04:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21134180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TetrodotoxinB/pseuds/TetrodotoxinB
Summary: No one told Danny that there were LSD fish in Hawaii. It's not his fault. Really.





	Hallucinations

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [Secret_Library98](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Secret_Library98/pseuds/Secret_Library98).
> 
> The effects of the weke pahulu are noted to be sweating, tingling of the mouth, tightness of the chest, hallucinations, depression, and sleep disturbances including intense nightmares. There's not much available information because of Soviet interest in psychotropic drugs such as this. Apparently, research was not conducted for many years because of this concern.

By the time that Steve and Junior make their way out the surf and up towards the picnic table, it’s well after lunch. Junior heads up the beach to the public bathrooms to hit the head and rinse the salt and sand off. But Steve, for whatever reason, opts to continue wearing half the sand and salt in the ocean as he sits at the picnic table.

“Where’d you get that?” Steve asks, propping his board on a palm tree and then turning to sit at the concrete table. 

“I caught it,” Danny says.

“You caught it?” Steve asks incredulously. “When?”

Danny turns away from the grill to glare. “You act like I don’t know how to use a fishing rod. And as for when, you’ve been surfing for three hours. I’ve had time. Hell, I probably could have hatched the eggs and raised the fish as long as you’ve been in the water.”

Steve holds his hands up as he sits on the bench. “Alright, alright, I’m just asking.”

“‘Just asking.’ No, you’re just insinuating that I’m an inept hoale who can’t catch and cook a fish,” Danny retorts. 

Steve shrugs. “Well, I mean, you’re kind of a hoale who can’t surf and doesn’t know anything about Hawaii or-”

“Shut up and eat the damn fish,” Danny snaps.

Steve takes the plate he’s handed and smiles. “This smells amazing, and you even made the pâté with the ofals like I showed you. I’m impressed.”

Danny waves his hands in the “get on with it” motion, and Steve takes a bite. 

“Okay, I think I actually owe you an apology. This is fantastic,” Steve says, shovelling another bite into his mouth. 

Danny smiles with self-satisfaction and leans contentedly against the picnic table.

*****

“This palani is pretty good, Danny,” Junior says when he gets back. 

Steve, who had already eaten his fill, is sitting back relaxing while Junior and Danny finish up the rest of the fish. 

“Nah, the palani’s alright, but the malu was better,” Steve says.

“Malu? Oh, man. Dad and I used to go out on the old piers and fish when I was a kid. Most people think malu’s a waste of time because it’s so small, but when I was little, it was about the only thing I could bring in. Even though cleaning all those fish was a lot of work, Dad never said anything. Just brought them all home to show Mom and Maya what a good job I did fishing,” Junior recalls.

Danny sees a smile stretch across Junior’s face at the memory, and then watches it slowly disintegrate as the ugliness of reality settles over him. Danny knows the pain of a lost sibling, and he wouldn’t wish this kind of pain on anyone.

“But, uh, this is really well cooked, Danny. You ought to kick Steve off the grill every now and again,” Junior finally says.

“Thanks. I guess, if you want some of the malu or whatever you call it, I’ve got a few left in the cooler. I just didn’t have time to clean them all for lunch,” Danny offers.

Junior smiles. “Thanks, Danny.” He leans over and opens the cooler to look at the fish.

“Uh, I don’t think these are malu,” Junior says.

Danny shrugs. “Okay, so it’s another fish with lots of fins.”

Steve leans across the table and looks into the ice. “Is that weke?”

Junior nods. “Specifically weke pahulu. And Steve, it’s July.”

The word “July” hasn’t ever sounded so ominous, but Danny isn’t going to rise to whatever Hawaiian-flavored idiot bait this is. “Hi, ignorant hoale here, but in English?” Danny interjects.

Steve ignores Danny’s request for information, instead asking another question. “Danny, you didn’t by chance put brain in the pâté you made, did you?”

“Oh, so now I failed by doing the thing you showed me?” Danny grouses.

“Danny, this is important,” Steve says, sounding like he might actually not be making this up.

Danny sighs. “Yes, I made the pâté just the way you showed me, including the fish brains.”

Junior and Steve exchange a worried look.

“Okay, is it just ‘fuck with the hoale’ day? Brains? Really? It’s July. Couldn’t you have tried this in October or something?” Danny asks.

Junior shakes his head. “It’s not a joke, Danny. In English, weke pahulu is called ‘nightmare weke.’ If you eat the brains, there’s a toxin that causes nightmares and hallucinations, but the fish is only toxic from June to August. Not many people from the islands eat it because it’s easy to cross contaminate the rest of the meat if you’re not skilled in preparing fresh fish, and even then...”

Steve’s looking a little green around the gills and Junior looks really concerned, and Danny is starting to worry if maybe this isn’t a joke after all. 

“I’m just gonna go…” Steve points his thumb over towards a metal trash barrel set out by the Parks Department of Hawaii. 

Danny, for maybe the first time in his life, is stunned into silence. He watches mutely as Steve walks himself over to the trash barrel, jams his fingers down his throat, and vomits up his lunch. Unless Steve’s mental health problems are much worse than Danny previous imagined, this isn’t the world’s most convoluted joke after all. 

“Fuck,” Danny mutters while Steve is spitting the last of the fish into the barrel. “How bad is this nightmare thing?”

“Nightmare weke. It’s not like food poisoning so he shouldn’t get sick, but it could be a couple of really ugly days. Just depends. Supposedly some folks have good trips, but I wouldn’t risk it with the stories I’ve heard,” Junior says quietly.

Steve staggers back over to the picnic table but doesn’t sit. “We need to leave.”

That something is already wrong, goes unsaid, but the silence hangs loud enough in the air for Danny to hear. 

“Should we go to the hospital?” Danny asks as he shoves their stuff into bags.

Steve shakes his head. “Only supposed to be psychological effects. I’d rather be at home.”

Danny hurriedly stuffs everything in the trunk and for once, Steve sits down in the passenger’s seat without complaint. Quickly, Junior climbs in the back and then they’re off towards Steve’s.

“How you doing over there?” Danny asks once they hit the main road.

Steve swallows audibly and Danny looks over to see sweat beading along Steve’s brow despite having the windows down in the car. 

“Chest is a little tight,” he admits.

“Are you having an allergic reaction?” Junior asks. 

Steve shakes his head. “I think it’s anxiety, maybe. The bugs out here are just so fucking loud. It’s kind of overwhelming.”

Danny rolls the windows up and turns the AC on low to keep them from baking in an enclosed car. “How about now?”

“Same,” Steve mutters. 

“Same? How can it…” The realization hits Danny all at once. Steve didn’t suddenly get Spider-senses; the bugs are a hallucination altogether. “Alright, well just hang in there.”

Steve doesn’t acknowledge Danny. He just looks out windshield and grips the edges of the seat.

“Hey, Junior-” Danny starts.

“Already on it,” Junior interrupts, putting his phone to his ear. Before Danny can as what specifically Junior is on, he hears, “Hey, Noelani. We have a problem. Yeah. No, it’s Steve. No, no one is shot. Uh, well, Danny fed Steve weke pahulu. Yeah.”

The conversation doesn’t last long and Danny only really hears Junior’s questions, which just makes him impatient and irritable, because he needs to know how bad this is. Finally, Junior puts his phone in his lap.

“Noelani’s going to meet us at Steve’s. She says that based on what she can find, Steve’s just in a for a long trip — at least until tomorrow morning, maybe as long as thirty-six hours — but other than the hallucinations and sleep disturbances he should be fine. We’ll just have to keep an eye on him.”

_Keep an eye on him._ Danny knows what that means — Steve’s going to be incapacitated from whatever’s going on in his head and it’s likely not going to be fun if the bug noises are anything to go on. 

As they merge onto the H1, Danny tries to stuff down his guilt and embarrassment. All he had wanted to do was cook something nice for Steve, show Steve that he’s not just some ingrate hoale with no ability or interest to learn from the people around him. Of course, this never would have happened if Danny had just made Steve a pizza, but he was trying. 

“There aren’t any stupid LSD fish in New Jersey,” Danny mutters.

In the backseat, Junior chuckles.

*****

At the house, Steve lets himself be herded to the dining table. Danny sits in a chair nearby and watches while Noelani checks him over. 

“Your vitals are all good, though your heart rate is a little faster than normal. That’s probably anxiety induced, though. I do want to take a blood sample to make sure there’s nothing else going on.”

Steve nods, but again doesn’t speak as he sets his arm on the kitchen table. In fact, short of answering a couple of questions when Noelani first came in, Steve hasn’t said a thing. It helps that Noelani has Steve’s medical records — along with everyone else’s from 5-0 — stored on the cloud, so she doesn’t have to ask him too much. 

When Noelani touches Steve to tie the tourniquet, and again when she swabs his arm, he flinches. Danny tries to offer support, to remind Steve that what he’s seeing isn’t really there, but Steve just nods curtly.

“I know. Doesn’t mean I don’t see it.”

When the needle goes in, Steve slaps at his arm, seemingly involuntarily, and a look of terror replaces his mask of stoic suffering. Noelani backs off, taking the needle with her, and Danny takes her place, pressing his thumb over the puncture on Steve’s arm. 

“Hey, hey. It’s just me and Noelani. You’re not in danger. It’s just a blood draw, alright?” Danny says.

Steve’s eyes are wide and panicked. “No, no. I- it-” he pauses and breathes. “I know- I know it’s just Noelani. I just saw something else,” Steve explains. His breath stutters in and out, shaky from the sudden fear.

Danny nods. “Yeah, I bet so. Can I do something to help?”

Steve shakes his head. “No. Just don’t let me do that this time.”

Danny briefly grits his teeth. “You want me to hold that hand down?”

“Yeah, that’d be good,” Steve agrees.

Danny puts his left hand on Steve’s shoulder, but there’s still the matter of his right hand which is currently plugging a leak in Steve’s left arm. “Hey, Noelani, could you…”

Noelani nods and squeezes in alongside Danny, who removes his thumb. “I got this,” she says quietly. The puncture doesn’t bleed any further and she wipes down Steve’s arm again, feeling for another vein. 

Danny grips Steve’s right wrist in his hand, and Steve turns his arm over so that he can do the same to Danny. 

“Okay, here’s the poke,” Noelani warns.

Steve flinches hard and his breath comes in short, shallow sips. “Tell me what’s happening, Danny. Describe where we are.”

Danny blinks and looks away from Noelani. “Uh, well, we’re, uh, we’re sitting in your dining room at your house. It’s early afternoon. It’s quiet here, nice and warm. Tropical, just like you like it. Noelani is sitting in front of you. She’s drawing some blood for lab tests, so you know, there’s a needle in your arm but it’s all kosher. Not weird or anything. Probably hurts a little. Junior is upstairs getting stuff ready.” Danny carefully doesn’t say that Junior’s locating and locking up all the weapons in the house just in case Steve’s hallucinations, or his reactions to them, get more serious. 

Noelani swaps out vacuum tubes and Steve grabs Danny’s wrist tight. “What can you hear?”

Danny looks around the room like he’s going to see sound or something, before pausing and focusing. “I can hear the fridge in the kitchen. Junior’s upstairs; I can hear him walking. The chair you’re sitting in just creaked. I can hear the wind over the ocean coming in from the lanai. It’s pretty quiet here today.”

“No-” Steve pauses and swallows. “No, cats?”

“Cats?” Danny asks. “Uh, no. I don’t- I don’t hear anything cat-related.”

Steve’s jaw clenches tight and he nods. Danny wonders what in the hell Steve’s hearing or seeing, because cats haven’t ever really been high on the terror list for either of them. Hell, Steve even professes to like cats. 

Noelani presses a cotton ball to Steve’s arm as she removes the needle, and he jerks the hand Danny’s holding in an attempt to get at it.

“Easy, Steve. It’s just a cotton ball,” Danny tries to explain.

Steve’s looking at Noelani’s hand in terror but for some reason hasn’t tried to move his left arm away from her. “Promise me, Danny. Promise me it’s just a cotton ball,” Steve asks desperately.

“I promise. I swear it on Grace. It’s just a cotton ball.”

Steve stares at Danny but after a moment he nods, and wraps his hand around Danny’s wrist again. “Okay.”

“I’m gonna put a wrap on your arm where I stuck you since both sites got a lot of jostling. This will just help it clot better. Try to keep it on as long as you can tolerate it,” Noelani instructs.

Steve nods and stares at the red tape like it’s a snake coiled around his arm, which it might look like for all Danny knows. 

“Do you need anything before I go?” Noelani asks while she packs up.

Danny rubs the back of his neck while he thinks but Steve just twitches in his chair and keeps his left arm far away from the rest of his body. 

“No, I think we’re good, Noelani. Thank you for coming over,” Danny finally replies.

“I’ll be back this evening after I get off work. If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay the night to keep an eye on him.”

Danny really, _really_ doesn’t want a third person in on this shit show. Steve is private enough that he’ll sew up his own wounds if given half a chance, anything to keep anyone from seeing him being vulnerable. Danny hates the thought of embarrassing Steve any more than is absolutely necessary, what with himself and Junior there to monitor him as things get worse. But Danny also knows that it’s probably what’s best, even if _he_ might also be a tad embarrassed to have her there given that he’s the reason for this fiasco.

“I appreciate it. We’ll make up the bed in the spare room. You should, uh, I don’t know, bring pajamas or something,” Danny says with a flippancy that he doesn’t remotely feel.

Noelani nods and looks sadly at Steve. “Call me if anything changes, okay? My other patients aren’t exactly going anywhere.”

It’s a ridiculous joke, one that would normally earn her chuckle from both him and Steve. But the most Danny can muster is a weak nod. “Yeah, thanks.”

Noelani takes the hint and quietly heads towards the front door. Steve doesn’t seem to realize that she’s gone, or if he does, he doesn’t care. He just twitches like he’s being startled every few seconds and keeps a wary eye on the tape on his left arm.

“Hey, upstairs is taken care of,” Junior says, startling both Danny and Steve.

Danny recovers from the momentary panic relatively quickly and manages a strained, “Thanks, Junior.”

But Steve doesn’t quite manage to brush off the sudden jolt of adrenaline so easily. His breathing becomes audibly raspy, more like gasps than actual breaths. Danny leans forward, but doesn’t touch.

“Hey, hey, Steve. Can you hear me?” he asks.

Steve nods. The muscles of his neck are corded and his knuckles are white from how hard he grips the seat of the chair. 

“What are you seeing and hearing, huh?” Danny asks softly. Out of the corner of his eye, Danny sees Junior move farther into the room, though he wisely gives Steve plenty of space. 

Steve swallows once, then twice, and it seems like he’s going to say something, but he ends up just shaking his head.

“‘No’ what? No? You’re seeing no? I don’t- what’s that mean?” Danny presses.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s not real,” Steve finally manages.

Danny rolls his eyes and waves a hand. “Well, yeah, obviously the weird shit isn’t real, but you’re still hearing it and seeing it, so it’s real to you. And since I care, I am interested in what’s going on, so I am trying to understand. But I can’t understand if the only thing you’ll tell me is ‘no.’”

Steve does his best to take a deep breath and nods shakily. “Bugs. There are bugs everywhere, all over everything. On the floors, the walls, you, me. And cats. I can’t see them, but I can hear them yowling outside like something-” Steve shakes his head and goes quiet. 

“What kind of bugs?” Danny asks, deciding not to pursue the cats. 

“Um, weird bugs. Not real bugs. They’re neon colored, like the creepy underworld place in Moana. They’re not normal.”

“That sounds really scary. Can you feel or hear them, too, or is it just a visual hallucination?” Danny asks.

“I can’t feel them, I don’t think. But they’re loud. Their- their feet. And their wings. They click. They’re all clicking. It’s- it’s- it’s-”

Danny can see how Steve’s forced calm is starting to slip. “Hey, hey, I’m right here, okay? Junior’s over there by the wall. I promise the bugs aren’t real and there aren’t any cats outside. I think the worst thing in the house right now is a house fly that snuck in from the lanai. So if you start thinking about going for the RAID under the kitchen sink, just check with one of us first, alright?”

Steve just shakes in the chair and stares, unfocused, into the middle space. Danny isn’t sure what to do with that and he turns to look at Junior, like maybe Junior’s got some brilliant plan on how to deal with hallucinogenic tropical fish, but Junior looks just as baffled as Danny feels.

Mindful of the dangers, but desperate to get through to Steve, Danny puts his hand on Steve’s knee. “Can you feel that on your knee? That’s my hand. Just my hand, okay? You’re safe.”

Steve stares at Danny’s hand with unconcealed horror. “Your hand is too loud. Please make your hand be quiet.”

As slowly as he’d put his hand on Steve’s knee, Danny retracts it. “Better?”

Steve nods. “Thank you.”

“Okay, I think you’re a little too fried right now to answer anymore questions and what’s going on. Do you wanna move somewhere more comfortable? Living room? Bedroom?” 

“Bedroom,” Steve mumbles, his vision already unfocused again.

Between Danny and Junior, they finally manage to coax Steve up the stairs to the bedroom. Wordlessly, he lies down on the bed, curling into a tiny ball in the center. 

“Go take a break,” Junior suggests softly to Danny. “I’ll take this shift and text you when I need relief.”

Part of Danny wants to argue because this is his fuck up, and he should be the one to deal with it, but pragmatically that doesn’t make sense. In order to make it to morning with one of them always babysitting Steve, they’ve got to take shifts. He thanks Junior and makes his way downstairs to the sofa. Once he’s lying down, Danny barely has the chance to realize how tired he actually is before he’s out cold.

*****

When Danny opens his eyes, it’s clearly well after dark, and the living room is lit only by the stand-by lights on the TV and Blu-ray player. Immediately, he feels like shit for having left Junior with Steve for so long, and he stretches before heading off in search of the bathroom and then his coworkers. 

He finds Steve and Junior exactly where he left them, and Junior waves Danny over to him.

Junior holds up a finger to his lips before Danny can speak, and Danny nods. “How’s he doing?” he asks quietly.

Junior shrugs. “Hasn’t moved from there. He twitches a lot and he’s said some stuff under his breath, but I couldn’t make out any of it.”

“Has Noelani come by?” Danny asks. 

Junior nods. “Yeah, he wouldn’t really talk to her but she said he seems fine. She’s in the guest room working on some reports.”

Danny nods and turns to watch Steve. In the low light, it’s not immediately obvious what’s wrong. Steve’s laying there, not really moving all that much, but Danny knows better than to think stillness indicates anything good with Steve. 

Over a period of minutes, Danny starts to understand what’s happening with Steve. It’s almost like a cycle. It begins with a flinch, a recoil from whatever he’s seeing or hearing, and is followed almost immediately by some reflexive action — his hands, arms, or legs moving defensively, like he’s going to block or kick or push something away, though he only moves a fraction of an inch before he aborts the action. If Danny didn’t know better, if he hadn’t seen the way Steve fights, hadn’t sparred with him regularly for years, he might not be able to tell, but he can. But worse that watching Steve’s panicked attempts at self-defense, is the way the whole cycle is capped off by Steve holding himself tighter in what looks like his attempt to suppress his reactions to the hallucinations. He’ll pull his knees tight, so tight that his muscles tremble with the effort, and it looks like he’s shaking apart.

It’s ugly and it hurts to see, and Danny wishes more than anything that he knew what to do. But none of it is really all that surprising; Steve hides all but the worst injuries. That he would try to tough out hallucinations bad enough to scare a SEAL isn’t exactly newsworthy.

“It’s late. Go get some dinner and sleep,” Danny finally says to Junior. 

“Okay, Danny. Call me if you need something,” Junior offers as he gets up. 

Danny nods. “Thanks.”

*****

Danny’s been nodding out off and on for a while, but he really wants to let Junior get some rest. Steve finally fell asleep about half an hour ago if his even, deep breathing is any indicator. It’s tempting to sleep, too, and Danny briefly considers it before deciding against it. All it would take is a moment of inattentiveness for Steve to slip out of the house and god only knows what would happen to him in his current state. 

“No!”

Danny’s previously bobbing head snaps upright. “Steve?” he asks cautiously, as he stands.

“No, no! Fuck!” Steve shouts, thrashing on the bed. “Aah, get off!!”

Danny hurries to the bed and grabs Steve’s wrists. “Hey, hey. It’s me, it’s Danny. You’re having hallucinations. There’s nothing there.”

Steve’s wide, panicked eyes track right to Danny but there’s no recognition there as he grapples Danny, before throwing him halfway across the room.

“Junior!” Danny shouts. There’s this intense and immediate fear that if Steve thinks Danny’s a threat, he’ll kill him. Danny might be able to fight Steve off for the first few seconds, but he knows damn good and well that he’s no match for Steve.

Thankfully, for Danny’s longevity, the moment that Danny is no longer in Steve’s space, he ceases to be a threat, or at least Steve stops attacking him. Moments later, Junior, followed closely by Noelani, bursts into the room.

“Danny?” Junior asks, surveying the current situation.

Danny’s still in the process of extracting himself from the floor and Steve has backed himself against a wall. 

“He was sleeping, and he woke up freaking out. I tried to calm him down and he threw me, literally threw me, across the room,” Danny explains.

Junior and Noelani’s eyes go wide and they both turn to look again at Steve, who’s staring at them with a look like a deer in the headlights.

“Steve?” Junior asks evenly. Junior’s always kind, easy-going, quiet unless there’s a reason. But now, Danny can hear the steel in his voice when he says Steve’s name, and he can see the way Junior squares up in case things get physical.

“I- I’m sorry. It- I had a nightmare. I didn’t recognize you, Danny,” Steve apologizes.

“Yeah, well you got me shot and blown up the first day we met so I feel like, on balance, you could have done worse,” Danny shoots back. 

Steve half-heartedly huffs a laugh but the levity doesn’t last. “I’m having a hard time,” he admits quietly.

That’s one of those “water is wet” type observations because they already knew that. But the fact that Steve is admitting it is troubling. 

“I hate to have to ask you this, Commander, but do you think that you’re a danger to yourself or others?” Noelani asks softly. 

Steve rubs his hands over his arms like he’s cold, but Danny can see the sweat dripping down his face. “I just threw Danny. I think I might be, yeah.”

“Do you think you need to go to the hospital?” Junior asks, his tone still brooking no argument.

Steve looks utterly terrified as he takes in the thick, beige carpet between his feet. “I- I don’t know. I just don’t want to hurt anyone.”

The thought of Steve in the psych ward, while Danny has to wait at home is flat-out unacceptable. Instead of Danny being there to help bring him down, some poor orderly is gonna get their head knocked clean off by some ex-Navy SEAL who’s high as a kite on fish brains. 

“I think what happened was a mistake on my part. I shouldn’t have tried to calm him down by touching him. I bet, if we’re more careful, things will be fine and there’ll be no reason Steve can’t stay here until this clears up,” Danny reasons.

Junior looks at Noelani who shrugs. “If Steve wants to go, that’s one thing. But he doesn’t have any intention of harming himself or anyone else, so technically there’s no reason to force him. Danny spooked him and the reaction was fight or flight; he didn’t specifically attack Danny.”

Junior nods. “Alright, fair enough. Steve, you alright with this?”

There’s a long pause and Danny watches Steve war with himself. Steve, being the person he is, is probably feeling so guilty that he thinks he deserves to be put on a seventy-two hour hold, but it’s obvious that he desperately does not want to go.

“We can try it this way,” Steve finally hedges.

Danny nods, relieved. “Alright, good. That’s good, Steve. Come on,” he coaxes, holding out his hand. “Come on, sit down, will ya?”

Steve lets himself be herded to the bed and Danny sits with him while Noelani checks his vitals once more.

Noelani loops her stethoscope around her neck and sits on the bed beside, but not close to, Steve. “Everything seems within normal ranges. Besides the psychological disturbances, the only thing I’m noticing is some minor dehydration. Have you had anything to drink since you vomited?” 

Steve shakes his head slowly. “No. I forgot.”

“That’s okay,” Noelani reassures him. “How about just a glass of water? You’re not too bad off, I just want to make sure you don’t get worse.”

Steve nods and Junior steps into the en suite bathroom to fill up the cup that Steve keeps by the sink. When Junior hands him the cup, Steve doesn’t even look in it, just lifts the cup and drains it in one long pull. 

“You, uh, you thirsty?” Danny asks.

“Looked like blood,” Steve says matter of factly, handing the now empty cup back to Junior.

“I promise it was just tap water,” Noelani says reassuringly.

Steve nods. “I know.”

“Okay, well I’m gonna let you get some more rest, though I realize that might not work out. I’m just down the hall if you need anything, okay?” Noelani says.

Steve nods and looks at his hands with horror and fascination. “Thanks,” he mumbles.

Once the door shuts behind her, Steve says, “Junior, I think you ought to stay, too. If something happens again, and Danny’s alone, I-”

Danny puts a hand on Steve’s knee. “Something like that won’t happen again. I’m not gonna be stupid about it next time, alright?”

Steve shakes his head. “You don’t know that.”

“I don’t know what? That I’m not gonna be stupid? Are you calling me stupid?” Danny asks.

“I’m saying you can’t count on me not to hurt you,” Steve clarifies, clearly not interested in Danny’s joking.

“I’ll stay,” Junior answers. “But like Danny said, I don’t think it’s going to be a problem.”

Steve nods. “Thanks.”

*****

By day break, Steve has fallen asleep, and subsequently woken up screaming, two more times. The wrap on Steve’s arm was the first victim, followed almost immediately by Steve’s shirt which was thrown across the room on account of being “filled with bugs.” Neither time did Steve injure, or even attempt to injure, anyone else. 

But pushing twenty-four hours of being awake, Steve’s ability to manage the hallucinations and the fear is giving out. Where before he somehow managed to fight the impulse to act on his hallucinations, he’s now actively swatting at, shooing, and picking every single invisible offender off his skin. 

“He’s sleep deprived,” Noelani explains simply. “Sleep deprivation alone can cause hallucinations and impaired reasoning, but paired with a toxin that’s already triggering those disturbances, and honestly, I’m surprised he’s managed it as well as he has for as long as he has.”

“When does it start to get better?” Danny asks over his third cup of coffee.

Noelani shrugs, and Danny wishes that shrugging didn’t precede every non-answer he’s gotten in this whole ordeal. “Given the time of ingestion, at worst, he’s at the halfway mark, which would mean he’s got until sometime late tonight or early tomorrow morning. But that’s the longest period of time someone has reported these effects to last. Others simply say ‘overnight,’ which means we could see it begin to clear up in a few hours. There’s really no way to know.”

Danny’s pissed, about a lot of things, but none of them are Noelani’s fault, so he nods, keeping his anger to himself. “I guess we’ll just keep an eye on him, then.”

“I’ll call from work periodically to check in, and I’ll be back at lunch to do another check up,” she informs them. How they got such a kind-hearted ME, Danny will never know but he’s eternally grateful.

“Thank you, really,” he says.

Noelani’s bright smile helps Danny’s dour mood, and she says, “Anything for ohana.”

Danny smiles as much as he can and then she’s gone, hurrying into the office on what probably amounts to four hours of sleep. He chugs the rest of the coffee and hurries upstairs to check on Junior and Steve.

*****

Everything reaches a head around midday. Steve’s inability to withstand the bugs goes from harmless, though distressing, picking at invisible creatures, to him covering his ears and quietly begging for help. Danny and Junior sit with him, reassuring him that it’s not real, but for every “I know” that comes out of Steve’s mouth, there’s a “Make it stop” that follows. It feels like there’s nothing they can do to help, and Steve is slowly falling apart. 

“Does anything we’ve done so far help?” Junior asks.

Steve keeps rocking and flicking at his skin. “I- The blanket earlier felt better.”

Danny had been desperate to offer some sort of comfort to Steve earlier when he wanted to feel safe but was scared that he would hurt Danny. Wrapping Steve in a blanket had been their solution and it had worked for a time, too. Right up until Steve sweated through it.

“What about a shower?” Junior suggests.

Steve rubs his hands over his head, his fingers manically flicking through his hair like he’s trying to remove some foreign material. “Yeah, okay. Can’t hurt.”

Junior pats Steve softly on the shoulder. “What temperature?”

“Warm, I think,” Steve answers.

Junior turns to Danny. “Can you-”

Danny nods. “I’ll stay while you get it going.”

Junior makes his way into the bathroom and Steve leans closer to Danny, like his decreased proximity will ward off whatever nonsense his visual cortex and hippocampus have gotten up to. 

“Don’t leave me alone. I can’t be alone,” Steve pleads quietly.

Danny scoots closer and lets his shoulder rest against Steve’s. “Talk to me, babe. What’s going on?”

“The hallucinations,” Steve says.

Danny rolls his eyes. “Yes, I actually figured that one out on my own, but thank you for that clarification. I meant, can you tell me what’s going on in your head.”

Steve swallows and ruffles his own hair again. “It’s not the bugs, those are… bearable.”

“Okay, well if it’s not the bugs…”

Steve doesn’t answer immediately and before works up the nerve to tell Danny, Junior comes back. 

“Shower’s warm,” he announces.

Steve nods and shakily tries to stand. While Danny gets up, Junior helps Steve to his feet, and they make their way to the bathroom. 

“I’ll stay with him,” Danny says once Steve’s fully in the bathroom and leaning against the wall.

“Sure. Holler if you need something. I’ll be right outside,” Junior says and then closes the door behind himself.

“Can we get you out of those ugly gym shorts?” Danny asks.

Steve nods and moves to do it, but between his compulsion about the bugs and his general unsteadiness — something they’re going to have to address sooner rather than later by shoving food into Steve — means that Danny ends up doing most of the work. 

“Underwear?” Danny asks. Generally, showers are more comfortable when naked in Danny’s experience, but Danny also doesn’t want to overstep. 

Steve shakes his head but when Danny opens the navy blue, because of course it would be a _navy,_ shower curtain, he doesn’t move to get in. 

“Babe?” Danny inquires. “You don’t have to get in, if you’ve changed your mind.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, I do. I-”

“You don’t want to be alone in the shower,” Danny guesses.

Steve nods looking almost ashamed. Later, Danny will smack the stupid out of Steve for thinking that he should be remotely ashamed of asking for what he needs. But for the moment, Danny doesn’t bother, instead making quick work of his own t-shirt and board shorts.

“Come on. I’m going with you,” Danny says as he nudges Steve towards the shower. “I didn’t get a shower yesterday and for once you smell better than me. Don’t let it go to your very substantial head. Just get in.”

Steve snorts the most pathetic laugh Danny’s ever heard, and steps carefully into the shower.

Danny follows him in and watches as the water, which is decidedly hot, not just warm, hits Steve’s back. Steve’s breath seems almost punched out of him and he closes his eyes, letting the water sluice over his skin. The difference is almost unbelievable. Steve’s shaking, which hasn’t stopped since it began yesterday on their ride home, nearly abates. His breathing, which has been pushing panic attack levels, slows to something almost normal. He looks not quite relaxed or calm, but almost relieved. 

"This help, babe?" Danny asks just to make sure. 

Steve nods. "It's quieter. Everything feels less."

Danny isn’t quite sure what Steve’s feeling less of, but it seems to be good. Danny’s content to lean against the back wall of the shower and let Steve decide what he needs.

Several minutes pass and Danny's getting cold standing in what little spray comes off Steve and the walls. He shifts, trying to move out of the chilling mist and the movement must startle Steve out of whatever train of thought he was in. 

"It's quiet," he whispers shakily.

"Is that bad?" Danny asks.

Steve looks up and Danny realizes that Steve's crying. 

"Whoa, hey, babe. What happened?" Danny asks. He steps forward into Steve's space, something maybe more intimate than either of them would normally allow, but rather than balk, Steve closes the distance and burying his face against the crook of Danny's neck.

"I got you, babe. I got you. It's okay." Danny holds Steve tight and rubs small circles on his back.

It must be something about showers, but Danny never can keep track of time when he’s in one, so he can’t tell if he holds Steve for five minutes or fifty. It can’t be too long, though, because the water is only just starting to cool when Steve lets go. 

“You ready to get out?” Danny asks, still keeping his hand on Steve’s arm.

Steve nods silently, and Danny reaches around him to bat at the handle like a toddler.

“I can still operate a shower, Danny,” Steve says, still quiet, as he turns and cuts off the water.

“Oh, is that so? I didn’t know they taught basic hygiene in the SEALs,” Danny snarks.

“There was a class at Annapolis. That’s why I’m the only one who doesn’t stink,” Steve explains as he takes the towel Danny’s handing him.

Danny snorts. “Maybe the only one in your unit, but certainly, compared to civilized humans, you smell like body odor and beaches.”

Shamelessly, Steve strips out of his wet boxer briefs and finishes towelling off. “What’s wrong with beaches?” 

Danny rolls his eyes and shucks his wet briefs. “The problem with beach-smell is the dead fish smell, which is of course, is the odor you have,” Danny explains.

“You’re unpleasant sometimes, you know that?” Steve asks, wrapping the towel around himself.

Danny is quite aware of that — in fact that particular accusation cost him his marriage and the ability to live full-time with his daughter. Normally, Danny wouldn’t care, but low on sleep and more than a smidge self-conscious after poisoning Steve to what has proven to be torturous result, has Danny all wrong-footed. 

Danny’s pause must have stretched too long, because Steve says, “I didn’t mean it, Danny.”

Quickly, Danny tries to right the situation. “No, I know. I was just thinking.”

“What about?” Steve asks, leaning against the vanity and staring at Danny.

“What, are you interrogating me? You’re poisoned with psychedelic fish, you’re not supposed to be trying to psychoanalyze me. Which, by the way, how is the whole poisoning thing going?” Danny asks in a blatant attempt to derail Steve’s line of questioning.

Steve shrugs. “I think it’s getting better?”

“You think? You can’t tell if there are still bugs in the room? Have they gotten quieter or maybe simply been considerate enough to crawl off your skin?” Danny asks.

Steve smiles tightly. “They’re… different. More normal. Tolerable. Some of the other stuff is harder to ignore now that the bugs are less… all consuming, I guess you could say.”

“Stuff like what?” Danny asks, remembering the cats from yesterday.

Steve shakes his head. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Danny didn’t actually expect Steve to spill, but it was worth a shot. “Fair. So what’s on your agenda for the day? Maybe a little more rocking, picking some bugs out of your hair, a little panic to round it all out?”

“Probably a little of all that. I was actually thinking a light lunch and then maybe a nap, though,” Steve answers.

It’s a solid plan, and aside from the strange look Junior gives them both when they emerge from the bathroom after having obviously shared a shower for the better part of an hour, it goes relatively well. Steve manages to choke down some food with only minor distress over yet another unspecified hallucination, and then Steve lies down to rest, something which Danny honestly thought was going to take a tranquilizer dart.

It goes without saying that Danny is going to be the one who stays, and he climbs into bed taking up the half by the far wall.

“Danny?” Steve inquires.

Danny starts his answer by waving his hands. “Look. You’re tired. I am also tired. You plan to take a nap. That seems to be the ideal time for me to also take a nap. You have a king-size bed, Steven. We’re barely in the same hemisphere in this thing. Don’t make this weird.”

“It’s already weird. You made it weird,” Steve argues.

“No. Wait, what? How did I make it weird? This is the obvious progression of naptime. You find a bed and you lie in it. Normally, I would leave you to your man cave of sadness and solitude, however you are currently under observation-”

“-because you poisoned me,” Steve interjects helpfully.

“-so I’m trying to be close at hand, while also practicing self-care. You know that metaphor about putting your own oxygen mask on first?” Danny asks.

“It’s not a metaphor, Danny. That’s actually best practice in the event of an aircraft-”

“Shut up. You know that I am using it as an analogy or metaphor or whatever part of English it’s called when you use one thing to make a point about another. Stop being dense. Just take the damn nap,” Danny gripes.

Danny looks over at Steve to glare meaningfully only to see Steve smiling. “You got me all worked up. I have been so worried- You, you are the absolute worst. I hate you. I hope you dream of bugs the size of cars. Go to sleep.”

“Night, Danno.”

“It’s eleven in the morning. Shut up.”

*****

While there aren’t any bugs involved, Steve’s sleep still isn’t great. He wakes up sobbing less than an hour after they lie down. Danny does what he can, pulling Steve into his arms and holding him tight until the worst of it passes, but it’s clearly related to the fish because for the first fifteen minutes of it, Steve’s nearly inconsolable, though he can’t articulate why. 

Finally, after nearly half an hour, Steve seems to settle. Danny realizes shortly thereafter that Steve settled better than he expected and is now sleeping with his head pressed against Danny’s chest, his fingers still bunched tight in Danny’s borrowed shirt.

Realizing that he’s in for the long haul, Danny adjusts a little and closes his eyes before letting himself drift off, too.

*****

“In honor of today, I have prepared a special dish for Commander McGarrett,” Kamekona informs them. 

“‘In honor of today?’ Today? What’s today?” Danny asks.

“One week since you poisoned Commander McGarrett with weke pahulu,” Kamekona explains patiently.

Danny waves a hand. “Oh, of course. How dare I forget. Yes, a fantastic reason to celebrate. What’re we having?”

“_You_ are not having anything,” Kamekona declares to the delight of everyone at the table. “This is made special, just for McGarrett.”

Danny holds up his hands in affronted surrender as Kamekona puts a covered platter on the table in front of Steve.

“You want me to…” Steve mimes uncovering the dish and Kamekona nods.

Under the lid, there’s a loaf of what looks like fish pâté shaped like a weke. 

“Yeah, haha, very funny,” Steve grouches good-naturedly. 

“No, no. Look there’s a piece of paper there,” Danny says, pointing to a folded square of plain white paper. “I wanna know what that is.”

Steve carefully unfolds the paper and glowers. “No eat da head.” He turns the paper around to show the carefully calligraphed note to everyone at the table. “That’s- thanks, Kamekona, but I kinda already knew that” 

“The note’s not for you. It’s for Williams. The fish is for you,” Kamekona explains.

Danny throws up his hands in indignation but Steve, and everyone else along with him, just laughs. For all it’s embarrassing — he’s been called “hoale” about fifty times more than average this week, and Danny’s beginning to wonder if there’s a secret text chat going on about what happened — it’s also reassuring that Steve is feeling well enough about the experience to joke about it. 

Steve slaps Danny on the shoulder and holds a forkful of pâté to Danny’s mouth. “Try it. Not quite as good as what you made, but it’s hallucination-free, guaranteed.”

Danny rolls his eyes and takes the bite. If Steve survived it, then Danny will, too. Worse things have definitely happened.


End file.
